Dreams
by droogish
Summary: Donna Noble has the same dream every night. Inspired by 'End of Time' trailers; spoilers throughout S4, mentions of S1-3 of New Who. Doctor/Donna. Angst.
1. Dreams

_and so it is_

_the shorter story; no love, no glory_

_no hero in her sky_

*

she dreamt of the same thing every night. she was flying, soaring amongst the stars; they were so beautiful, so bright. there was someone beside her, taking her hand, guiding her through the skies. she couldn't see him; he was just an outline, a tall, skinny man with a blurred face. but she knew he was good. love radiated from him. love for this planet, love for the stars and the skies and all that hid beyond it. love for her.

she reaches out a hand and touches the tip of a star. it's hot, so very hot. the burning sensation shoots through her body, making her head pulsate. and her heart _throbs_ as she sees everything, all the colours and the beauty melting away from her and his hand slips from hers. she's so cold, so very alone. her head is still burning and she wants to cry out but she can't speak. and she wakes up back in her room, tears falling down her cheeks and her head feeling like it's going to split into two.

her mum is indifferent – _flying? oh don't be so silly, donna. always with your head in the clouds. do something useful and wash the pots for me_ – and even her grandfather dismisses her dreams – _it was just a dream, donna_ – but there's something else behind his eyes. a spark of recognition and an overwhelming sadness. whenever she mentions these dreams, she senses he wants to tell her something. but there's pain and worry written all over his face, and in the end she just smiles and passes it off as overactive imagination.

but she can't shake that feeling of familiarity. there's something about that man in her dreams. she feels as though she knows him; she feels as though she loves him. but that's ridiculous, because he doesn't exist. she sighs, straightens her suit and heads off to another day of temping. day in, day out; it's all the same. she's only truly happy when she's flying high above the sky, away from her average, every day life. she smiles, sadly.

_it's just a dream._


	2. Stories

**A/N: **i didn't intend for this to be a multi-chaptered story, but there was still so much i wanted to say about the doctor/donna relationship. this is incredibly angsty, by the way, as i'm apparently incapable of writing anything else. all feedback is appreciated! x

*

_there are worlds out there, safe in the sky because of her_

_there are people living in the light, and singing songs of Donna Noble, a thousand, million light years away _

_they will never forget her, while she can never remember_

_But for one moment; one shining moment, she was the most important woman in the whole wide universe._

*

sometimes there's a prelude to her dreams.

she's on an adventure, that much she knows. and she's aware that it's not Earth. everything is so bright; firey reds, tranquil greens, deep blues. she moves seamlessly between locations, always investigating. faces flash by her; some human, others an oddity. women made of stone. giant wasps. and always an alien; her gut thinks its (no, _he_, a voice admonishes her) name begins with an O, but she can't be sure. it's always there in the background, never speaking to her. or to him.

he's there too; the mysterious figure that she flies with every night. she longs to learn from him, longs to understand him. but they never speak. when she looks at him, he's just a blur. then she reaches out to take his hand, and that's when everything melts away, and suddenly they're soaring high above the earth. everything is so right, so bizzarely _normal_. it's all safe, comforting, loving. and then the pain returns, and everything fades to black, and she wakes up back in london.

now she writes her dreams down, in a faded, dark blue journal that she picked up in a junk shop. her mother scolds her – _you need to get a proper job, Donna, rather than scribbling it that horrid book all the time _– but they're too personal for other people to read. she only lets her grandfather read them; somehow, he understands her. she takes him through everything, describing the planets and creatures in minute detail. and he smiles and nods and laughs in the right places, but he never pushes the subject. Donna sees the same pain in his eyes; it seems to be getting stronger and stronger. something about her dreams is hurting him, and she doesn't know what it is. she can't work out why a flicker of familiarity shoots across her grandfather's face when she talks about 'him'; the man in her dreams.

all she could be sure about was that this man was good. that she sensed by the way he guided her through the stars, taking care not to let them burn her skin. pain raidiated off him in waves; he was hurting, and Donna knew no-one could heal him. he was clever. funny. witty. annoying. sarcastic. he was caring, and loving, and he was old. so very, very old. his age was tiring him; he was drawing strength from Donna, just as she drew strength from his knowledge and guidance.

sometimes, she has conversations with this man in her head. the banter flows freely; they argue and laugh and learn. to her, this man is real. he exists, somewhere. she just doesn't know where. she wants to meet him, but whenever she contemplates finding him, she gets hit by this wave of anxiety and feelings of danger. she's scared; she just doesn't realise how much.

so she pushes the feelings to one side, trying to get on with her life. but there's constant reminders of him everywhere. she sees clothes; snappy designer suits (he wears them so he looks good all the time), battered coloured Converse (practically; you need a sturdy shoe for travelling) and long coats (suitable for all weathers)

she rolls her eyes – _get a grip, donna. you're gonna be late for work _– and stalks off down the highstreet, her eyes unconciously scanning the passing crowds.

*

he's watching her. silently willing her to turn around, but at the same time urging her to keep walking. he needed to see her, needed to acknowledge her presence, just like he did with all of them. the war memorial holds Rose's name, a constant reminder of her bravery and her sacrifice; the freedom of the people a testament to Martha's long journey to rid them of _him_. but Donna saved this planet, and thousands beyond the stars. they remember her for what she is; a hero. and because of him, because of his actions, she is trapped, forced to believe she's a nobody, just an ordinary person.

"donna noble; oh donna. i am so..."

he says it without thinking. 'sorry' sounds so meaningless, so weak. but she stops. she stops and turns, and for a fleeting second, their eyes meet, and he wants to run towards her. but he can't, because he can't face watching her die, because he's already hurt her enough.

so he turns and runs down the alleyway. because it's for the best.


End file.
